


That Goddamn IKEA Chair

by Purplesauris



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blood and Gore, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Geoff Ramsey/Gavin Free - Freeform, Gore, IKEA, IKEA Furniture, M/M, Michael Jones/Jack Pattillo - Freeform, Poor Ryan, Porn With Plot, Side Relationships - Freeform, based off of misterkitteh's art, for tumblr user misterkitteh, some murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplesauris/pseuds/Purplesauris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rule 1. Keep your hands off Geoff's booze. Rule 2. You break it, you buy Geoff another one. Ryan broke Geoff's chair, and now he has to go to IKEA to get him another; he also has to assemble it himself, without help from anyone. Ray is there for emotional support, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Goddamn IKEA Chair

**Author's Note:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOOOO this fic was inspired by many long talks with my good friend at misterkitteh.tumblr.com, as well as her lovely comics which you can find here: http://misterkitteh.tumblr.com/post/106060104406/imagine-your-otp-not-being-able-to-put-together and here: http://misterkitteh.tumblr.com/post/109340163161/the-sequel-to-my-previous-raywood-photoset-this . As always, like the fic? Hate it? Found a spelling error? Tell me so at purplesauris.tumblr.com or in the comments!

Ryan is a deadly man. He’s a mercenary, he kills people for a living without any remorse or regret and he does it well. His 100% success rate proves that. He’s also in Los Santos’ most wanted group of ragtag criminals, an organization wanted for millions of stolen dollars and many, MANY homicides. Ryan is one of the most feared and most respected people in the entire city, so why can’t he put together a _goddamn IKEA chair_?

 

It started with going to the IKEA store first of all; Ryan managed to break one of Geoff’s chairs in the apartment and Geoff demanded he go and get the same exact chair from IKEA and build it himself. Ryan begrudgingly went, dragging Ray with him because Ryan absolutely will not be seen in IKEA alone, what kind of mercenary do you think he is? It’s been two hours and they still haven't found the goddamn chair yet, Ryan is itching to just shoot up the place because how the fuck can you get lost in a store?

 

“Ray can I just-”

 

“No Ryan, lets just find this stupid chair and get out of here.” Ray pushes the cart slowly, well more like he puts one foot on the bar underneath and hops along, leaning heavily on the handle bar. They wander through the aisles for another 3 hours before Ryan hunts down the chair and grabs it, dropping the box in the cart with a grumble and a glare at the offensive sitting tool. Ray looks at the picture of the chair on the box, making sure it’s the one before Ryan is dragging him off. Ray tries to see over the box in front of him but even when he goes on tiptoes he can’t so he gives up as Ryan disappears. Ray looks around in confusion, looking down the aisle. “Did he just run off? What the hell man?”

 

“What?” Ray jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he whips around.

 

“Jesus christ dude! What have I said about doing that?” Ryan just shrugs and walks around the cart, skull mask in place as he looks at kitchenware. Ryan makes a noise of surprise and Ray hears him moving stuff around on the shelves.

 

“Ray, I found knives.” Ray rolls his eyes and peeks at the set of knives Ryan is holding.

 

“Those are steak knives.”

 

“ _Ray_.” Ray sighs and pushes his glasses up, rubbing at one eye. “They’re all color coded. Look, this blue one has a curved blade and the red one..” Ray tries to listen to Ryan talk about knives, he really does, but Ryan’s words kind of blur into one big sound without visual aid, seeing as that stupid chair is in the way and Ryan is standing right in front of the cart. Ray jolts when Ryan touches his shoulder, and Ryan looks at Ray with puppy dog eyes.

 

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

 

"Can we get them? Please?" Ray groans when Ryan's eyes get wider, and he feels the word no crumble on his lips.

 

"Fine, but only one set. You know how Geoff gets when you show up with weapons."

 

The corners of Ryan's eyes crinkle in a sign that Ryan is smiling behind his mask as he sets the knives into the cart. "Now can we shoot someone? They'll never be found."

 

" _Jesus_." Ray mutters, sighing and walking down the aisle with Ryan on his heels. "Geoff likes this store, he said it was off limits to you."

 

Ryan whines in protest and Ray side-eyes him, Ryan grumbling like a child and following behind Ray as he walks out of the aisle. The two of them wander around the aisles for a couple more hours, and by the time 6 o’clock is rolling around Ray is sitting in the cart playing his DS, Ryan pushing slowly as his fingers twitch with barely held in homicidal urges. Ray knows exactly what Ryan is thinking because he reaches up and takes one of Ryan’s hands, quelling the twitching as Ryan breathes out loudly. “This is ridiculous, Ray.”

 

“Just find a salesperson.” Ryan grumbles some more and squeezes Ray’s hand, but Ray just places Ryan’s hand on his shoulder, scooting back so he’s pressed against the back grate of the cart. Ryan focuses on Ray’s purple hoodie and the warmth he can feel from underneath the fabric to calm himself down as he steers through the furniture section. Wait, how’d they get back in the furniture section? Ryan groans, looking around for _anyone_ who can help them get out of this godforsaken store. Two hours later Ray’s DS has died and he’s frantically looking for a salesperson while Ryan practically _shakes_ with frustration and anger, even Ray unable to calm him down.

 

Ray is running down one of the aisles when he crashes into someone, barely managing to catch them before they topple over. Ray’s eyes widen as an employee looks at them in shock, and Ray nearly cries in relief. “Are you alright sir?”

 

“I’ve been wandering around this store for hours, can you help us check out and leave?” the employee looks sympathetic and then a little bit terrified when Ray drags him back to where Ryan is sitting on the floor next to the cart, eyes narrowed into slits. “Rye! C’mon I found someone, we can check out and go home.”

 

Ryan hauls himself up, stalking angrily behind them with the cart as the employee hurries them through the store and to the register, scanning their items quickly and giving them an apologetic smile. “I apologize, if we had known you two got lost we would have sent someone out to find you immediately.” Ryan growls low in his throat and Ray grabs his arm, giving him a warning look as Ryan’s knuckles go white from his grip on the cart.

 

“Thank you for your help.” Ray practically drags Ryan out of the store, loading the chair in the back and handing Ryan his knives, opting to drive because a mad Ryan is someone you don’t want behind the wheel. Ray speeds on the way home because he knows Ryan likes it, and slowly he sees Ryan’s shoulder slump as he leans back in the chair.

 

“Can we go kill some people?”

 

“Thought you were on a murder break.”

 

“I was.” Ray considers it for a moment before sighing.

 

“Lets bring the chair back and grab the Bifta, we can go up north to hillbilly town.” Ryan pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed and places a kiss against Ray’s cheek. Ray laughs and wipes at his cheek, knowing that Ryan smeared face paint on him on purpose.

 

~*~

 

Ray and Ryan shuffle into the apartment slowly, the clock just a little past 11:30. Ray runs through on his way to his room, DS clutched in his hand because it died while he was playing pokemon and he needs to see his newly captured rayquaza. Ryan heaves the stupid box in through the door and kicks it shut behind him, walking into the living room. Michael, Gavin and Jack are curled up in one big pile of limbs on the chaise lounge of the couch, fast asleep. Geoff is on the opposite end of the couch, snoring quietly with a blanket tangled around his stomach. Ryan looks up as Ray comes stumbling through the doorway, pausing for the first time as he takes in the four of them sprawled on the couch. Ryan points at his mask and then to Ray, wiggling his fingers. Ryan pulls his jacket off and lays it over the back of the couch, not wanting it to get dirty.

 

“Right.” Ray disappears back in his room, coming back out a few minutes later. Out of all his outfits this one has to be his favorite; Ray in skin tight brown jeans and a black t shirt that says ‘original gangster’ in brown curly writing on his front. What Ryan likes the most though, is the mask Ray pairs with it; a rather festive christmas mask of a gingerbread man with purple eyebrows, a green bowtie on the chin and a wide red grin, white ringed eye holes staring blankly back at Ryan. The whole look makes Ryan oddly turned on, because whenever Ray’s face is hidden behind a mask it’s like a switch is flipped. He’s free to act on whatever odd urges he has, and Ryan would be lying if he tried to say he didn’t find Ray a little bit terrifying.

 

Ray stands there in the light of the apartment, and Ryan feels Ray’s eyes dissecting him, laying him open before him even though neither of them have moved. Ryan feels a shiver go down his spine, and then Ray is moving, grabbing a set of keys off of the key hook by the door, expecting, knowing that Ryan will follow. He does.

  
  


Ray starts up his Bifta, Ryan sliding into the seat without a word. Ray pulls out of the garage and rockets through the quiet streets of Los Santos, heading up north. The drive is quiet, nothing but the sound of tires squealing when Ray drifts around a corner and the occasional clink of Ryan’s lighter as he flips the lid open and closed, a habit that none of the guys have ever questioned. Ryan lifts himself out as soon as they’re stopped, car hidden behind a line of shrubs too thick for people to see through. “Lead them to me?”

 

Ray looks at Ryan a moment, head tilted to the side, and Ryan should probably feel nervous that Ray’s so intent on looking at him right now, but he’s not. Ryan feels a trickle of fear as Ray steps closer, mask plastered with that stupid grin as Ray places a hand over Ryan’s racing heart. Ray merely looks at Ryan, eyes bright behind the mask in a calming gesture, showing Ryan that no matter what happens tonight, Ray isn’t going to hurt him. Ryan nods silently, and Ray disappears into the night, the sound of a gunshot going off a few seconds later. Ryan slings a sledgehammer over his shoulder, waiting as a terrified pedestrian comes running around the shrubs, dancing out of the way of bullets that barely miss their heels. Ryan swings the hammer powerfully, a sickening crunch reverberating through Ryan’s mask as the man goes down clutching his side.

 

Ryan lifts the hammer back and slams it down on the mans head, blood splattering over Ryan’s front and mask. Person after person comes running past, meeting the end of Ryan’s hammer and ultimately their demise, Ryan breathing hard as he brings the hammer down one last time. Ryan hears a woman scream as she runs past Ryan, hiding behind him despite the fact that he’s covered in blood. “Please help me! T-there’s a man with a g-gun and h-he’s chasing me!”

 

Ryan is frozen in shock, and the woman slowly realizes that the man stinks of the blood that covers him, backing away while crying and looking at Ryan with scared, horrified eyes. Ryan’s grip on the sledgehammer tightens and he lifts it up to take a swing, but a shot rings out, the woman jerking back with a bullet embedded in her skull. Ray appears out of nowhere, standing over the dead body and placing a finger over his red grin. “Shhhhhhhhhhhh.”

 

The two work in silence, disposing of the bodies as the blood coating Ryan’s front slowly dries. They don’t say anything on the way back to the apartment, Ryan just cleans his hammer off while whistling a tune. They ride back up to the apartment in the elevator, Ray never removing the mask. He’s still in a mood from what Ryan can tell, and it’s better to steer clear of Ray for now, so he stands a couple feet away, sledgehammer resting on his shoulder. They stroll into the apartment, Ryan setting the hammer down to lean against the couch as Jack peeks at them sleepily. “No evidence?” Ryan shakes his head and Jack closes his eyes again, pulling Michael closer as the younger man cuddles into Jack.

 

Ray tugs on Ryan’s wrist impatiently, and Ryan walks to their shared bedroom. Ray ushers him into the bathroom quickly, Ray immediately motions for Ryan to remove his mask. Ryan pulls it off, tossing it into the sink as he adjusts to having a full range of sight again. Ray undoes Ryan’s ponytail, fingers combing through the sandy locks as Ryan closes his eyes and leans his head into Ray’s hand. Ryan feels hesitant, cool fingers trace the waistline of his pants and tug at his shirt and Ryan lifts his arms, letting Ray peel the blood soaked shirt off of him. That goes into the sink as well, Ray running cold water. Ray washes Ryan’s chest off with a wet washcloth, making sure every speck of blood is gone from Ryan’s skin before he wipes Ryan’s face makeup off too.

 

Ryan’s eyes snap open when a tongue drags over his collar bone, teeth following in small bites. Ray’s mask is pushed up on his head, and his face is serene, but fire burns in his eyes, and Ray slowly backs Ryan out of the bathroom. Ryan stumbles as his legs hit the edge of the bed and he topples backwards, landing with a small oof. Ray kneels over Ryan, pulling his mask off all of the way and tossing it to the side. Ryan feels thin fingers loop around his wrists and push his wrists above his head, Ryan obediently keeping them there. Ray trails hot kisses down Ryan’s chest, biting at the skin presented to him by the man under him. Ray bites at Ryan’s stomach, Ryan’s breath shuddering out in pants of Ray’s name and soft moans. Ray scoots up Ryan’s body, sitting on his hips as Ryan arches up to meet Ray in a kiss, Ray biting at Ryan’s lower lip.

 

Ray groans as Ryan happily sucks on his tongue and plays with the button of Ray’s pants. Ryan undoes Ray’s pants with sure, quick fingers while Ray sits up and pulls his shirt off over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Ryan tugs at Ray’s pants, Ray lifting his hips up so Ryan can pull them down, Ray doing an odd little hop to kick them off his legs. Ryan presses the heel of his hand against Ray and Ray whines, grinding against Ryan’s hand. Ryan is hard, straining in his jeans but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care that the zipper is rubbing against him in a not so pleasant way. Ray seems to know, though, and he slithers down Ryan’s body to undo his pants and yank them off, taking Ryan’s boxers with as well. Ryan watches as Ray drops his underwear, moving to straddle Ryan’s chest. “Wanna suck your cock.” Ryan murmurs, Ray laughing breathlessly.

 

“You like sucking my cock don’t you, Rye?” Ryan nods eagerly, Ray stroking himself slowly as he looks down at Ryan. “Can I fuck your face? Have those pretty lips spread around me? Would you like that?”

 

Ryan whimpers and nods again. “Please.” Ray chuckles and combs his fingers through Ryan’s hair, scooting up closer as Ray smears the head over Ryan’s lips. Ryan’s mouth opens automatically and he pants, moaning when Ray pushes the head past Ryan’s teeth. Ryan opens his mouth wider, pressing his tongue to the underside of Ray’s dick as he sucks lightly. Ray groans, grip tightening in Ryan’s hair as he slides further into Ryan’s mouth, Ryan sucking and humming to draw him in. Ray gasps when Ryan sucks particularly hard, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around Ray. Ray grinds against Ryan’s face, Ryan whining as Ray pulls back and thrusts in gently, an insistent hand prodding at Ray’s lower back. Ray laughs darkly, moaning as he thrusts harder into Ryan’s mouth and Ryan hums around him, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Ray thrusts in earnest, head thrown back as he moans loudly, Ryan moaning along with Ray as tears prick the corners of his eyes and his jaw aches. Ryan’s throat feels raw but he loves the feeling of Ray hitting the back of his throat over and over again.

 

Ray teases himself, pulling out as pleasure curls in his gut and he almost comes. Ray takes his time, sliding in and out of Ryan’s eager mouth, enjoying the wet warmth as Ryan sucks and licks at the sensitive spot just under the head of Ray’s cock. Ryan takes whatever Ray gives, and even when Ray’s cock is down his throat he begs for more, wanting Ray to use him for his own pleasure. Ray does so gladly, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as he fucks Ryan’s mouth the way he likes, in long drawn out thrusts and quick jerks of his hips, Ryan’s nose brushing against his skin as Ryan’s fingers trace over Ray’s back. Ray commands Ryan to touch himself with a breathy sigh, and Ryan does as instructed, stroking himself slowly so he doesn’t come before Ray.

 

Ray’s chest heaves as he breathes hard, back arching as his thighs quiver and his hips stutter in their rhythm. It only takes a few more thrusts and Ryan hollowing his cheeks again for Ray to let go, gripping Ryan’s hair tight and head thrown back as he comes down Ryan’s throat. Ryan moans, trying not to choke as he swallows and his whole body stiffens, coming over his stomach. Ray draws in short little breaths, pulling out of Ryan’s mouth, Ryan gasping in greedily, feeling lightheaded but satisfied. “Too rough?”

 

Ryan shakes his head quickly, Ray clambering off of Ryan and going to get a washcloth on shaky legs. Ray wipes at Ryan’s stomach and chin gently, laying reverent kisses on Ryan’s chest as Ryan hums tiredly. “Love when you fuck my mouth.” Ryan coughs quietly, clearing his throat even though he knows his voice is going to be basically nonexistent for a few days. He doesn’t mind, it’s not like he talks much anyways.

 

Ray nudges Ryan until he straightens out on the bed and slips under the covers, Ray curling up facing Ryan. “Such a dirty mouth.” Ray sighs, smiling lazily as Ryan snuggles up to Ray, tucking his face in the crook of Ray’s neck.

 

“I like when you wear a mask.”

 

“You calling me ugly?” Ray’s voice is tired but playful, not really taking it as an insult.

 

“You let loose. You kill without regret or snarky comment, you fuck like you want to.” Ray hums and plays with Ryan’s hair, shrugging.

 

“When I put on the mask no one knows who it really is. I can be a whole different person if I want to be.”

 

“I know.” Ryan hugs Ray just a little bit closer, knowing full well what a mask can do to a person.

 

~*~

 

Ray wakes up to Ryan’s dick hard against his ass and an arm trapping him to Ryan’s chest. Ryan’s breath is soft against Ray’s skin as he presses his face into Ray’s neck, still sound asleep. Ray blinks groggily, having finally fallen asleep a few hours after Ryan did. He got more sleep tonight than he did all week, though, so Ray counts the few hours he got as a win. Ray is glad there’s a sheet over their waists because as much as they all hear each other bang, no one wants to see each others dicks. Jack peeks in quietly, Ray waving tiredly as Jack smiles warmly. “Michael and I are heading out for the weekend, Geoff and Gavin already left. Stay out of trouble, you hear?”

 

“Trouble and I are in a committed relationship.”

 

“I think Ryan is a little more than trouble, Ray.” The two of them laugh softly and Jack flashes one last smile before he leaves, the sound of the front door closing just faintly heard. Ray relaxes back into Ryan’s arms, warm and happy in Ryan’s strong embrace. Ray feels sleep tug at his limbs like it always does, but Ray’s mind is awake and racing, thinking about the callouses on Ryan’s hands or the way Ryan feels against him, or how possessive Ryan gets when one of the other lads get drunk and get a bit too touchy. Ray feels a shiver go down his spine when he thinks of how protective Ryan is, how quick he is to snap someone's neck if they so much as threaten to hurt Ray.

 

Ryan is a typhoon, a raging storm of deadly intent and rough treatment, but Ryan is also a gentle rainfall, a soft mist that caresses and kisses intimately at your skin. Both sides of Ryan are equally loved by Ray, both the brutal side which everyone has dubbed the Mad King, and the soft side, where Ryan is just Ryan. That side isn’t often seen by the others, but Ray sees, Ray feels, Ray is surrounded by him and he loves it.

 

Ray gasps when he feels fingers run over his chest, trailing over his stomach and tickling at the skin on his hipbones. Ray reaches back to tangle a hand into Ryan’s hair, tugging at the strands as Ryan strokes him languidly. Ray’s hips jerk when he tightens his grip slightly, thumbing the slit as Ray lets out a garbled mantra of Ryan’s name. “You always sound so pretty in the morning, Ray.”

 

Ray tries hard to respond to that, to Ryan’s lilting voice, but when Ryan purrs naughty things into his ears while touching him, he finds it hard to think. Ray feels Ryan’s other hand tweak Ray’s nipple and he whines, hips moving and grinding mindlessly as Ryan speeds up his movements. Ray rocks between Ryan’s hand and grinding back against Ryan, listening to quiet moans or breathy murmurs of his name. Ray ruts into Ryan’s fist with an urgent intensity even though they have the apartment to themselves all weekend and there’s really no reason to rush. It’s almost always that way with Ray, the need to get off at least once before he lets Ryan fuck him senseless clawing at his skin. Ryan sucks at the spot behind Ray’s ear lightly, Ray shuddering in Ryan’s arms as Ryan speeds his hand up, smearing precome.

 

“Ryan-” Ray’s grip tightens on Ryan’s hair and Ryan kisses softly at Ray’s neck.

 

“I know.” Ryan doesn’t stop the quick strokes of his hand even as he nibbles at the sensitive spot just under Ray’s jaw, guiding Ray as his back arches and a loud moan of Ryan’s name falls from his lips as he comes. Ray jerks with oversensitivity as Ryan strokes him lightly, placing warm butterfly kisses along Ray’s shoulder and the slope of his neck. Ray lays there bonelessly, chest heaving with his panting breaths as Ryan lazily grinds against Ray’s ass. Ray pushes his hips back as Ryan grinds forward, and Ray smiles triumphantly when Ryan’s breath hitches. Ryan grips Ray’s hip with one hand, stilling Ray’s hips as he stops grinding against Ray.

 

Ryan leans over Ray, distracting him with a hot kiss as he pulls the nightstand drawer open, rummaging around inside. Ray’s stomach flips with anticipation over what he can assume is coming next, and he isn’t disappointed. Gentle but agile fingers spread Ray open, going slow like he always does no matter how much Ray wants him to go quick. Ray whines as those teasing fingers leave, and he’s guided onto his back as Ryan settles between his legs. Ryan looks at Ray, a hand coming up to cup Ray’s cheek as he leans down, kissing Ray softly as he pushes in, stopping when Ray tenses, using small little thrusts to ease in. Ray’s breath hitches as Ryan stops moving, hips pressed to Ray’s ass and Ray’s thighs around Ryan’s waist securely.

 

Ryan’s shoulders quiver minutely, and Ray can feel how tense Ryan’s shoulders are, but Ryan won’t move until Ray says that he’s alright. It isn’t always like this, sometimes it’s fire and rough hands and being filled quickly and all at once, but Ryan loves being gentle with Ray. Especially in the mornings. Ray buries his fingers in Ryan’s hair as Ryan tucks his face into the crook of Ray’s neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and Ray. “Move, please Rye.”

 

Ryan pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in smoothly, hitting that one spot right away. Ray gasps, back arching slightly as Ryan moves in long, slow thrusts, rocking against Ray as he bites at the skin of Ray’s neck. Ray’s hands move from Ryan’s hair, fingertips digging into Ryan’s back as Ryan thrusts rhythmically, hands planted firmly on either side of Ray’s head. Ray reaches blindly with one hand, sighing happily when Ryan threads their fingers together and kisses Ray’s knuckles. Ray squeaks in surprise and moans loudly when Ryan thrusts hard, hitting Ray’s prostate dead on. Ray feels his second orgasm burning in his belly and he pulls Ryan down for a messy kiss, more of panting against each other’s mouths than an actual kiss. Ryan’s hips stutter briefly and the fingers of his free hand curl into a fist, thrusting once more before stilling, Ray moaning as he tips over the edge for the second time that morning.

 

Ray pants, trying to suck in air as his stomach tenses and he clenches around Ryan, Ryan moaning lightly against Ray’s neck. Ray feels so full still, and he realizes that Ryan hasn’t actually gotten off, and he rolls his hips, Ryan gasping. “Ray-” Ray mumbles Ryan’s name, arching his back and pushing back against Ryan’s hips. Ray feels so sensitive but his skin itches with need, he needs Ryan, needs him to finish because Ray likes the feeling of Ryan’s cum dripping down his thighs. Ryan’s hips jerk and he presses his forehead against Ray’s shoulder, control slipping away as he thrusts sharply, Ray whining and wiggling against Ryan. Ryan catches Ray’s mouth and kisses him soundly as he comes, sinking in as deep as he can before going still once again. Ray moans, high pitched and breathy as Ryan slumps over him, trapping him while Ryan draws little shapes over Ray’s side with his free hand.

 

Ray giggles and smooths Ryan’s sweaty hair back, Ryan pulling out slowly. “You’re heavy.” Ryan grumbles halfheartedly, not protesting when Ray wiggles out from under Ryan. “Stay there.” Ray disappears into the bathroom, the sound of the water running flowing from under the door. Ray pads back out and slips back under the covers, Ryan settling between Ray’s legs as he lays down, resting his head on Ray’s chest while Ray plays with his hair, one hand clasping Ryan’s again.

 

“What’re we doing today?” Ryan mumbles against Ray’s skin, Ray laying comfortably with Ryan’s solid weight on top of him. Ray hums as he shrugs, eyelids drooping sleepily.

 

“We should probably put that chair together at some point, I guess.” Ryan grumbles again and presses his face into Ray’s stomach, Ray giggling when Ryan blows a raspberry on Ray’s skin. “Ryan that tickles!”

 

Ryan chuckles softly as he goes back to laying peacefully, Ray sighing and snuggling up to Ryan, running light fingers over the bare skin of Ryan’s shoulders. Ray traces a few scars as Ryan’s breathing evens out, lulled into a trance by Ray’s soft touches. Ray doesn’t hear the soft admission of love from Ryan, drifting off to sleep again as he mumbles sleepily to Ryan, incoherent praises and sweet pet names.

 

~*~

 

Ray wakes up to a light shining in his face and he groans as he rolls, feeling blindly for Ryan, only to find the bed empty. Ray rubs at one eye sleepily while looking around the room, yawning quietly. “Rye?” Ray spots Ryan standing in front of the window, jeans hanging low on his hips and chest bare. Ray admires the sight of Ryan’s back muscles, the flex of Ryan’s shoulders as he rests his hand above his head on the window. Ray slides out of bed quietly, sneaking up behind Ryan as he slips his arms around Ryan’s waist. Ray goes up on his tiptoes and rests his chin on Ryan’s shoulder, looking out at the city and the clear blue skies.

 

Ryan rests his other hand atop Ray’s and turns his head, kissing Ray lightly. “Sleep okay?”

 

Ray grins naughtily and gives Ryan a smoldering kiss. “I always do after you fuck me.” Ryan laughs softly against Ray’s lips, pulling at Ray’s wrist as Ray maneuvers himself between Ryan and the window. Ray shivers as his back touches the cool glass, kissing Ryan with the kind of lazy, slow grace that he seems to have mastered in all aspects other than sex. The two kiss for a few minutes, Ryan’s warm hands roaming over Ray’s sides and back, tickling along his stomach as Ray snickers and tugs on Ryan’s hair. “You showered yet?” Ray murmurs against Ryan’s lips, Ryan nodding as Ray notices his hair is still wet.

 

“Gotta go pick something up while you shower.”

 

Ray pouts but sighs contentedly when Ryan nips at Ray’s neck, sucking a mark that will no doubt stay for a while because Ryan knows Ray likes the reminders. Ryan grabs a black t-shirt as he lightly pushes Ray towards the bathroom, Ray shuffling slowly. Ryan pulls the shirt on and grabs his jacket, quickly applying black makeup around his eyes before he pulls his mask on. That’s the signal that Ryan is once again the hardened criminal that the rest of the crew know, not the soft spoken man who touches Ray like he’s a god and Ryan is a simple peasant worshipping at Ray’s feet. Ryan gives Ray one last soft look before his eyes harden and his body seems to switch, every stride confident and long, shoulders back to take up space because this Ryan demands what he wants when he wants it and kills anyone who goes against him.

 

Ray takes his time bathing, eventually filling up the tub and sitting in the warm water, relaxing with a soft sigh. Ray soaks until his fingers are pruning and the bathwater is tepid, serving to actually chill Ray’s skin a little bit. Ray pats himself dry quickly, hair already dry from sitting in the bath so long. Ray secures the towel around his waist and pads out into the bedroom, searching through his dresser as he grabs a pair of boxer briefs and jeans. Ray pulls those items on, shucking a shirt on and his purple zip up after, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand so he can actually see. Ray walks out and into the kitchen, stomach growling as he listens to the quiet of an empty apartment. Ray grabs a bowl of cereal and takes it with him into one of the many rooms in the apartment, one that everyone else thinks is unused, but in reality it’s Ray’s room. He hasn’t actually used the bed to sleep at all since he joined the crew, it was always either in some hidey hole or sleeping on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

 

Ray’s never liked being in rooms alone; the walls always felt too close and he never felt like he could protect himself properly, even with the pistol he keeps tucked under his pillow. Ray likes sleeping on the balcony because there’s open air, he knows there’s a parachute stashed near the railing that he’s accustomed to strapping on quickly in case he needs to jump, and the only way to get to him is through the sliding doors which would mean you’d have to get past the five other dangerous criminals in the apartment before you could even get to Ray. Ray debates camping out on the balcony tonight just for the hell of it, but he knows Ryan will most likely bring him in once he falls asleep because Ray always catches a cold staying outside all night. Ray settles into one of his egg bean bag chairs, chewing on lucky charms as he boots up the xbox he keeps stashed in here. Ray finishes his cereal quickly, loading up a game of tetris as he tucks his feet under himself.

 

Ray plays tetris mindlessly for a few hours, barely noticing when Ryan comes in and flicks the lights on, dragging that stupid IKEA box behind him. Ryan is the only other person who knows about the actual use of this room, and he makes sure never to go in here unless the others are out because this is Ray’s private space and Gavin would muck everything up. Ryan sits down near the tv and gets to work unboxing all of the pieces for the stupid chair, mask discarded on the floor so that he can see better. Ryan doesn’t bother with instructions, looking over all the pieces carefully before finding the baggie of screws and getting to work.

 

Ray watches out of the corner of his eye as Ryan tries to put the chair together, Ryan frowning in confusion at how complicated it is. Ray makes an offhand comment that Ryan should probably look at the instructions and that gives him the instruction book shoved in his face. Ray pauses his game and actually looks over the booklet, giggling as he sees Ryan doing the exact opposite of what the instructions say to do. Ray doesn’t say anything, though, just lets Ryan do as he pleases while mentally building the chair in his head. Ray relaxes in his bean bag, watching in amusement as Ryan gets more and more frustrated.

 

Ray watches Ryan struggle for over an hour, and by this point it’s a little sad that a man who can take apart a gun, clean it, and put it back together in his sleep can’t put together a chair. Ryan’s hands are actually shaking, so Ray sets the instructions down, looking concerned as he calls out Ryan’s name. “Rye? Why don’t you come sit down with me? You can worry about the chair some other time.” Ryan pushes his bangs back, pouting angrily as he gets up, plopping down onto the free bean bag with his arms thrown wide and legs straight out in front of him, more of flopped on the bean bag than actually sitting. “Isn’t that better?”

 

“Your eggs can’t hold me forever.” Ray doesn’t know whether to be concerned over how dark Ryan’s voice sounds or amused because Ryan is this upset over trying to build a chair. Ray snuggles into the arm thrown behind his back as he gets comfortable, starting up his game again as Ryan lays there, staring at the ceiling with his makeup smeared all over his face.

 

It ends up taking Ryan most of the night to make the chair, Ray curled up on the couch, fast asleep while Ryan works away at his chair. Ray wakes up when an excited hand shakes him and he yawns, blinking blearily as he takes in the sight of a fully built, complete chair.

 

“Holy shit Rye did you-” Ray looks at astonishment as Ryan practically bounces, hands clasped together. “You finished the chair!”

 

“Fuck yeah I did!” Ryan sounds excited, and he looks so proud of the IKEA chair that sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by discarded tools and little plastic bags. Ryan claps, actually does a little excited clap before going to sit down in the chair, pleased expression on his face. Ryan sits peacefully for a few seconds, the silence and happy atmosphere broken by a loud snap, and then the chair is collapsing and it’s taking Ryan along with it. Ray jerks forward, reaching to catch Ryan on instinct, but reacting a bit too slowly. Ryan lays on the broken pieces of the chair, looking dazed for a moment before Ray gapes in astonishment. Ray can’t recall Ryan ever crying, but now he’s crying over a _goddamn IKEA chair_.

 

When Geoff gets back Ryan throws the broken pieces of the chair at him and says ‘there’s your goddamn chair’ before walking off angrily, grumbling under his breath. Ray apologizes, but gives no explanation as to why Ryan is giving Geoff another broken chair. Geoff gives up on getting another chair and they have one less chair in the apartment from now on. No one really minds.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
